


God's Gonna Cut You Down

by FelicityGS



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bar Room Brawl, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Pre-Relationship, barely a brawl really, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 13:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17162879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelicityGS/pseuds/FelicityGS
Summary: Hux still isn't quite how he's planning to blackmail the senator's son, but he's sure he can think of something.





	God's Gonna Cut You Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Verbyna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbyna/gifts).



> [#15 of the Meet Ugly prompt list](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/274308) and a late gift for the eternal Verbyna. I'll never stop being grateful we met.

It is not the kind of bar that would be Hux's first choice. Or second, or third, all the way down the long list of options. It might even be one of his last choice's, but networking has taken him to worse, and besides, he is well aware these are the kinds of bars where he's mostly likely to gather the best of blackmail as well.

That's why he's here tonight--blackmail.

It's dark, smoke filled despite smoking bans, and Hux lights another cigarette and considers the reason he's here as he takes that first pull. Ben Solo, the beloved senator's son, trying (failing) to hide his anger behind thick hair; he's in a white too-tight shirt that threatens to rip across his shoulders every time he hunches in, and Ben hunches in quite a lot. Why, Hux still hasn't figured out, but it doesn't matter--Ben Solo looks like someone who can be pushed into doing something _stupid_ , and Hux very much looks forward to the task.

Hux isn't quite sure _what_ kind of blackmail he's looking to get. This is the first time he's actually managed to _find_ Ben at this ramshackle pool house that calls itself a bar, and the possibilities seem endless as the person Ben's playing pool with starts swearing at Ben and Ben's shoulders just get tighter and tighter, shirt stretching ever more across those broad shoulders. The light catches off a large silver ring as Ben curls his hands into tight fists, some gaudy class ring--of _course_ Ben would wear a class ring. Hux shakes his head, takes a sip of his whiskey.

Hux can think of a lot of things he could do to someone with that much pent up anger. Some of them even involve clothes.

But it's only the first time Hux has followed Ben, and he's in no rush for Ben to notice him yet. Hux watches as the argument starts to escalate, and he's a bit disappointed as the fight seems to dissipate. They go back to their game of pool. Hux finishes his cigarette, stubs it out, and heads to the bathroom for a much needed piss.

He can hear shouting mixing with the tacky country music when he starts to head back out. He pauses a second, but there's no point staying in this filthy excuse of a bathroom; he pushes the door open and goes.

And promptly gets punched in the face.

Hux does not think; years of school yard fighting takes over. He braces himself, shakes his head just enough to get the stars out of his eyes, then pushes off his back foot, and driving all 75 kilos of himself behind his fist; animal satisfaction blooms in his chest as his knuckles connect with his assailant's face.

It's only as said assailant staggers back Hux realizes that it's Ben.

His lip curls into a sneer; he can feel blood sliding down one cheek, likely cut by that gaudy ring Ben insists on wearing. The entire bar has gone quiet other than the creaky sound of a country singer Hux would prefer he didn't know. Ben looks up, brown eyes wide and temporarily stunned out of anger. Already, his skin blooms pink.

A quiet, tightly controlled part of Hux whispers how it's a good colour for Ben.

He can see a broken pool stick, Ben's former opponent laid out on the floor and unconscious, likely friends of said idiot standing around and ready to resume the fight, a few people sitting at the bar carefully not watching the proceedings.

"I'm going to call the cops if y'all don't take this outside," the bartender says in a bored, familiar drawl as they clean a glass with a dirty dishtowel. They shrug. "Might anyway."

"You," Hux says, nodding at Ben, "come with me." He keeps his voice unphased, his expression relaxed. He looks at the others who so clearly want to jump Ben, and there's this moment where they clearly are debating what to do about Hux's sudden involvement.

Wisely, they go to see how their friend is doing.

Hux grabs his jacket and heads for the door. He does not look back to see if Ben is following; under the click of the jukebox switching records, he can hear Ben's footsteps.

Yes, Hux knows _exactly_  how he's going to handle Ben.


End file.
